


Dark Dreams

by westronwynde (blueharlequin)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Sex, Assassins & Hitmen, Barebacking, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, Conspiracy, Cults, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, First Time, Future Fic, Heterosexual Sex, Hitchhiking, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Male Homosexuality, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Near Future, On the Run, Opposites Attract, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Serial Killers, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Content, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, Triggers, Violence, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueharlequin/pseuds/westronwynde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mostly finished novel I wrote for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) 2012. Just wanted to put it out there to see if anyone's interested ... Updates every once in a while, it's mostly finished to chapter 8.</p><p>Set in the not too distance future three people are brought together by circumstances involving the death of a peace activist. A woman escapes from a mental hospital with no memories of who she is or how she got there, a young college student accused of serial murder flees from the police and an US Marshall gets caught up in a conspiracy concerning a zealous religious cult leader as he chases after the two fugitives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_I sometimes have dark dreams of all the horrible things that one can to do to people, dreams that involve long knives and lots of blood. It’s as though I have a fascination with blood. As part of this fantasy, it smells wonderful and the coppery taste drives me wild. In some of the more mild dreams it drips slowly, languidly, pooling in a thick mess on the floor. For some reason, I want to run my hands through it and smear it all over me. I want to lap it up and salivate as it rolls over my tongue. Yet as I do this, I have this vague feeling that something about it isn’t right, like I’m outside of myself watching this other person revel in these obscene feelings. I’m awash in ecstasy and the strange dissociative feeling is slowly pushed aside as I surrender to the pleasure clouding my mind._

She woke like this often, slightly aroused and panting heavily. The white walls stared back at her and she lifted her hand to push back her hair. She smiled as she realized that today she was not strapped to the bed. No orderlies with roaming hands or nurses with saccharine smiles and sharp needles. The routine was always the same; dressed and showered, breakfast, pills, group or counseling, lunch, pills, free time or visiting hours, dinner, pills, quiet time then lights out.  Nothing changed and that was how it made sane people lose their mind. She, on the other hand, had already lost her mind. By that logic should it not make her sane? If she had lost it how could she find it if she was stuck in here?

In all the time she had been here she had never changed her room. It was still bare white, unbroken. She never saw the point. One little deviation from the routine and they took away anything you had. For someone who had no other memory than of this place it was superfluous. Not they would let her have much anyway if she wanted it. The last time she stabbed an orderly with a paint brush had guaranteed that. She remembered being beaten savagely and thrown into isolation for a week cause of that. Her first few months of habitation in the facility introduced her to patience. She visited the isolation room at least once a week.

Sitting in that padded room, she came to the conclusion that a bit of cooperation would enable her escape. She needed to be transferred to the B wing. The minimum security wing would afford her freedom to watch, to plan and most importantly to escape. Being strapped to a bed in a padded room gave little opportunity for flight. Viola had the presence of mind to start out her escape by promptly informing her doctor in therapy the next morning that she felt ‘out of control.’ It wasn’t a big stretch of imagination. Hell, it was for the most part true. In moments of lucidity Viola would remember to go over and over her plan in her head, if only to instinctively make sure she followed it. The strange blond doctor soon became a fixture in her life and slowly the fuzziness of her days receded. When Dr. Howe told her it was due to the change in medication, he almost seemed proud of himself.

Viola knew the man was testing her. Even if it was due to the meds she was relieved not to have to expend so much energy every day; being psychotic was taxing on the body. Some nights she barely had enough strength to put up a token protest at the amorous approaches of some of the bolder ‘caretakers’ at her illustrious facility. Days that used to be spent raging at nothing were now instead filled with tests and long talks. She sometimes thought the insufferable man liked to hear himself speak. She was eventually she was moved to the B wing. Something she felt Dr. Howe was displeased with, if only for the fact that there was a little mishap one day with her medication. In due time, Viola realized that she was able to watch all of the comings and goings of the entire staff from her room. A tiny bit of paranoia struck her as it seemed too convenient but she tamped it down in favor of hope that she might get out of this place all the more quickly.

After breakfast she was escorted to the doctor’s office. She didn’t know which she disliked more, group or counseling. After recalling one particular meeting where some whore had a revelation that her uncle used to touch her, she came to the conclusion that her one on one’s with the doc were far preferable. The orderly took up his post outside the door. The doctor was sitting in his chair with his keyboard in his lap. She looked on in disdain when he motioned to the couch next to him. Instead, she walked over to the chair opposite to him and flopped down, making herself comfortable. She liked the chairs in his office, her bed was a board compared to them.

“Good morning Viola.” She always had to grin when someone said her name. Apparently, when she was arrested the only identification she on her person was a driver’s license with the name Viola Messaline. Someone had a sense of humor and apparently really liked Shakespeare. False identity notwithstanding, it seemed that they hadn’t been able to find out anything about her. No missing persons reports, no prior arrests, no birth records, she was a complete no one. So the name had stuck. This much she had been able to glean from the doctor in all their sessions together. The doctor continued, “I see here that you haven’t had any violent episodes for the past couple of months. If you maintain your current behavior you can permanently keep your room in the B wing. Are you making any progress with your memories?”

“Doctor that would require me to actually spend some trying to recall them. As I have told you I’m not really that interested remembering them. I am however, very intrigued as to why you want me to remember them.” It was almost unnerving when the doctor grilled her about her amnesia. The probing always felt like he was looking for specific information about her identity.  On more than one occasion she felt that his “nice guy” facade was going to crack and she would end up being water boarded or some such crap.

“Viola, we’ve been over this before. It is natural to want to remember who we are. The fact that you express no desire to do so only indicates the amount of work we have do.” She rolled her eyes, idly interested in whether she was a case study or if the doctor really cared about his patients. She had been subjected to every sort of test she imagined there was. At one point the doctor even had her play with building blocks for over three hours.

“Doctor Howe, I am not really concerned with what society deems normal. I would like nothing better that to get out of this place. Since I was put in here there have been no trappings of what you would call society’s norms. If I was arrested as you say I was, I had no trial; I really have no idea for what I was incarcerated. I haven’t a clue as to why they specifically stuck me in here and I really could care less. As far as you are concerned I could kill you as soon as fuck you just because I am bored.” She muttered as an afterthought, “Though I’m sure _you_ would be more interested in the former rather than the latter.” Leaning forward she bared her teeth in the parody of a grin. “Doc, how about you help me out here? Maybe a little bit of information might stimulate my memories. For instance, how about telling me why I’m in here? You’ve been rather vague about that and as far as I know I haven’t had the opportunity to visit with a lawyer. Something tells me I’m being held here against my will.”

“I’ve told you before, you are a special case. I’ve been told your lawyer is working tirelessly on your case and you can rest assure we will inform you of any progress he makes. As for why you are in here, I am not privy to that information. My job is to simply make sure you receive the treatment that you need.”

Viola was done; there was no more information she could learn from the doctor. Every day it was the same questions. “ _Do you remember why you were arrested?”_ or “ _Do you remember your real name?”_ The weirdest aspect was that the doctor never seemed to go into detail about how she could recover those memories. Instead, he was constantly asked her to describe how she felt or what she thought about the fact that she couldn’t remember her life before the hospital. Something about her situation just wasn’t right and she had the feeling was high time she left. This place was getting tedious and as little as she cared about her past, it was still more than she cared to hang around this joint and be slowly medicated into a vegetable. The doctor sighed heavily, “This level of paranoia is very unhealthy. Viola, if you don’t wish to carry on our session I will be forced to send your back to your room.”

She laughed; it wasn’t much of a threat. Instead she couldn’t help but goad the man a bit. “Really doctor? I was sure you were looking for some horizontal refreshment or is that just reserved for the boys? I am sure there are a couple of orderlies and patients that you haven’t screwed yet. Or are they not all as receptive to your advances as that cute little Asian lad that works the pharmacy? Of course the guy in the C ward who thinks he’s Manet was a nice pick as well. Did you make sure he cleared for syphilis first? I mean, it’s enough to make a girl like me feel left out.” Howe’s face turned stormy; he angrily signaled the man at the door and she was escorted back to her room.

The little red headed nurse at the front desk smiled at her as she went by. She grinned back, now that was someone she could get with. Instead, she had to settle for this idiot but at least he fit for plan she was about to enact. She hung in the doorway for a moment. Dr. Howe led by example. Most of the male staff had taken advantage of some of the more helpless female patients at one time or another. In the A wing some of them even forwent beating in favor of rape. He was by far the worst offender; she knew this one liked screwing some of the heavily medicated ones. Licking her lips she whispered to the man, “Want to have some fun after lights out?”

“Bitch, I can do that anytime I want.” He pushed her all the way in the room.

“Yeah, but if I want it you get more out of it. Aren’t you getting a little tired of zombie girls?” The orderly slammed the door and walked away. She couldn’t wait for lights out.

She spit the pills into the toilet and watched them dissolve into little bubbles. At one time the nurse had explained to her what they were and how they were supposed to help her. Viola figured she might have been a bit fond of her since she never felt the urge to do any violence to her. The nurse was a cute little thing with wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She even brought her a book at one time. Viola hadn’t seen her in a while and wondered if they had taken her off her rotation since she seemed to like her. It was easier to avoid the medication on this side but this had been the first time in weeks she had been able to do it. They didn’t force it down your throat and hold your mouth closed here as in the other wing. When she had first been moved they caught her not taking them. Viola hadn’t anticipated she’d have visible and crippling side effects from the withdrawal. So this time she had planned to take it slow and try and reduce the dose over a course of a few days. However, something told her she needed to leave now; the feeling was so strong that she rationalized she could endure a bit of pain to get the hell out of here. She listened as orderlies came down the hall. They were tapping on each of the doors making sure everyone was ready for lights out. The tap never came. She sat on her bed and waited.

A good hour after lights out, the door to her room slowly opened. She smiled; this was going to be too easy. “Hi there. Ready to fuck?” Viola started stripping off her clothes. He looked at her, and then his eyes darted back to the door as he quietly shut it. They’re always nervous. She wanted to laugh because it was just so amusing. _“Idiot, what do you think I want you for?”_ She thought. But tonight she needed this one for a different purpose. He’s the one with the keys; he’s the one with the _outdoor_ keys. He’s still standing there ogling her naked body so she took his hand. He started for a moment and Viola paused. She needed to catch him off guard. After a moment of indecision he let her lead him to the bed. She unzipped his pants and maneuvered him into sitting position.

Viola smirked as she realized he’s already hard and ready to go. She might be able to get this over more quickly than she thought. “You ready to stick that cock in my mouth? Want to fuck my face before you fuck my pussy?” His breath hitched and he nodded. She’s really trying to hold back a fit of the giggles. Where’s the badass that slammed the door in her face this morning? Not so confident when the girl isn’t comatose. Viola pulled his dick out of his pants. It’s was nicely sized and she decided to have a little fun before she killed him; one last one for the road.

Viola licked her way down his cock to the crown and swirled her tongue over it.  He grabbed hold of her head as she wrapped her lips around it. “Yeah you little slut, suck that.” She almost rolled her eyes at him. Instead, Viola tilted her head a bit and seductively moved down till her nose was almost buried in his pubes. Pulling back, she let him see her fondle her breasts and watched his eyes widen as she reached down to touch herself. Viola was getting excited; the thought of seeing his blood spill was causing her to get wet. A few more bobs of her head and she let him pop out her mouth. He made an aggravated noise and pulled at her hair, “Bitch, I didn’t say you could stop.”

She stood up and he tensed. “Relax big boy,” she crawled on to his lap, “you don’t want to blow your load before the main event. Didn’t you want me to ride your cock?” Before he could say anything she rocked her hips forward and slammed down on him. At this point Viola was so wound up she had to stop her hands from going around his neck.

“Oh my god,” he gasped. She leered at his slack expression. Oh this was going to be so satisfying; no one would miss this one, especially not the vegetables down in the other ward. Viola grinded against him roughly, wanting to get off quickly so she could get down to business. His hands rested uneasily on her hips so she gripped his shoulders and leaned in to nip at his collarbone. He grunted and she smiled into his shoulder. Just a little bit more. Moving up to his shoulder she bit him a little harder. His hands clenched and he started bucking into her a bit faster. That was her sign. Viola shoved the side of her hand into his mouth and savagely bit into his neck. She could feel his teeth digging into her and his hands battering at her sides but she was too far gone as the coppery taste washed down her throat and triggered her orgasm.

He was still struggling as she pinned him down and pinched his nose closed as he bled out. Although he was a bit larger and stronger than her, it really was no match for 130 pounds of crazy. After a few moments he grew still. Viola was pleased that little or no sound had escaped the room. She lifted herself off him and began searching through his pants. Pulling a key card and ring of keys out of them she stood, frowning as cum started dripping down her leg. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who had gotten off. Looking down at the blood and whatnot Viola knew she was going to have to clean up a little before changing into the nurse’s uniform she had stolen. She pawed through his pants one more time and grabbed his wallet, cleaning out every bit of cash he had.

She slipped out of the room and locked the door behind her. Anyone looking in would see a sleeping form on the bed. It really was too easy, but then again this wing of the psychiatric hospital was considered minimum security. The guard at nurse’s station didn’t even look up as Viola slid the key card through. Perfect timing and a set routine had ensured that the guard thought she was just making the scheduled rounds. The door buzzed and Viola stepped into the mantrap. She waited for the door behind her to swing closed then unlocked the opposite door with one of the keys from the ring. She hadn’t realized that she had been holding her breath. The most dangerous part was over. Months of observation and memorization paid off. Instead of moving towards the exit, Viola went down to the employee break room. The door to the outside smoking area was her target. It was fenced in but the padlock joining the fence gate together was unlocked. Neither exit had an alarm.

Viola glanced around the surrounding area as she slowly opened the back door. The hospital was in an out of the way area, not exactly rural but not in the suburbs either. With a little power walking she could make it to someplace with enough civilization that she could ditch her uniform and blend in. After months of looking out the window in her room she knew she had to make a beeline for the trees that extended out around the grounds. She would be able to still see the road and travel unseen until out of sight. She darted out of the door and quickly unhooked the padlock from the chain. Lowering carefully so that it wouldn’t clang as she swung open the chain link door, she made sure to close it again behind her just in case one of the staff came outside for a late night smoke.

  


* * *

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

It was cool enough that her breath huffed out like steam as he made her way to the tree line. She’d been walking about three hours when she came upon the farm. Viola could only hope it was abandoned like many of the rural homes across the country. Government owned farms had driven many small family operations out of business. There were no lights anywhere, so she tried the barn first. Livestock would be indicative of habitation. Opening the door she walked in, looking around, she could see the hay moldering on the ground and the stalls hadn’t been used in ages; so abandoned. Viola continued out the other side and made her way to the farm house.

Opening the back door cautiously, she peered inside. Just because the barn was in disuse didn’t mean squatters or other less than savory persons hadn’t taken up residence. Not hearing a single noise she made her way through the house, lighting a candle she found in one of the kitchen drawers. She eventually identified the master bed room. First item of business was to ditch the glaring white nurse’s uniform. Opening the closet she was overjoyed to find a smattering of clothing had been left behind. Rummaging through the wares she sneezed as the disturbance caused a cloud of dust to rise. Viola finally found a pair of cargo pants that fit, they were a bit loose but a belt fixed that problem. Over that went a t-shirt and a flannel shirt, the morning and evening were cool lately, better to be slightly warm and be able to take it off than to be cold and have nothing to put on. Looking around she spied a duffle bag and reasoned that she might as well fill it up with anything useful. A few more shirts and a pair of jeans that looked adequate went in the bag as well as a dress that was far too big.

Exiting the closet she checked the nightstands next to the bed and the dresser against the wall. Those had nothing of value or use in them so she left the room and went into the kitchen. There was a canteen dangling from a hook on the walk. A couple of the chairs were overturned and she idly wonder if the owners had left them like that or if other people had already been in the house and left in a hurry. She put the canteen in bag, grabbed the remaining candles and matches then opened a few of the cabinets. All the canned food was too heavy to carry and most of the boxed items were six months expired. She went into the pantry and was a little luckier there. She found several packages of dried fruit, beef jerky and nuts. One more room and she would leave. There was a den across from the living room in the front, if these people were like any others then there should be something very useful in the den. Viola slid back the mahogany folding door separating the den from the living room. She huffed slightly wondering if this was good or bad. The gun safe was wide open and looked to be empty. Standing directly in front of it, she kneeled down searching the bottom recesses. It looked like several rifles and hand guns used to be kept inside, but the only things her fingers encountered was a few loose bullets. Looking around the room she could barely make out a desk and chair in the relative amount of candle light. That’s when she saw it, the glass case with a beautiful Kershaw boot knife. She carefully lifted the lid off and slid the knife into the holster sitting below it. She tied it onto her belt, making she it was well covered by the flannel shirt. Deciding this was as fortunate as she was going to get, Viola made her way out of the house.

As she was leaving the farmhouse she turned back briefly to look behind her. Viola stopped dead in her tracks as she saw the symbol painted on the front of the house. An Omega symbol with a diagonal line through it was spray painted in red over the door. These people had been marked as traitors to the Merciful Sinner cult. She clutched her head as a searing pain raced through it. She gasped in agony as a myriad filmstrip of images raced through her mind. A tall man in a cowboy hat, the crack house she used to crash at occasionally, a street full of people screaming in confusion and blood, so much blood. Crouching on the ground she dropped the bag in front of her as she took deep breaths trying not to pass out from the sudden rush of disjoined memories. The moment passed and Viola stood, swaying a bit unsteadily on her feet. Walking over to the side of the house she found a faucet. Miraculously water came out and she splashed her face trying to calm down after whatever that episode was. Coming back to herself she hastily turned off the water. Walking back to the front she grabbed her bag and pulled out the canteen. If at some point she had to travel away from civilization again she would need water. Filling it up she looked down the road she had been walking on going south. Off to the side of the farm there was another road, and from the lights in the distance she could tell it met a major highway. Deciding to risk it she crossed the field and began walking.

As she walked she thought about the conservatism that had swept the US over the last five decades. It had made the environment ripe for religious nuts and several movements had sprung up but none had persisted like the Merciful Sinners. They were an end of days cult that had rapidly gained a large following in the past 5 years. With the Internet being regulated by the government and provided as a free service for all people they were able to use it as promote their ideals. Their teachings were a mishmash of Christian values and doomsday prophesies gathered from all different religions. The cult appealed to many because it emphasized all the parallels between religions just skirting the dangerous edge of saying they were clones of Christianity. It also pointed out all of the elements each one had in common with the end of days. There was also no central cult leader, though various towns and cities had “Pastors” and some regions had “Reverends” and cultists were encouraged to practice “as they saw fitting their lifestyle.”

One of the most popular expressions of their devotion was for them to demonstrate in public. Most of the time it was simply a way to heckle and harass non-believers. But the thing that really creeped people out was some of the more “devout’ followers would preach and prophesize horrors that would be visited upon sinners that had not accepted the end was near. At first it was small demonstrations, and the members would have all the permits for public gatherings. Then they grew. The police began to arrest members for disturbing the peace. And the amount and size of the demonstrations only grew in subsequent years. However, the criminal element soon began to take advantage of the police’s distraction. Finally, as a way to solve the problem, the government recognized the cult as a religion and subsequently announced they would not interfere with any public display. People simply learned to avoid being around when they were near. She looked up from her musings as she reached the highway.

It took a good nine or ten tries but as she stuck her thumb out the little car coming towards her slowed down and came to a stop. Running up to the passenger window she was greeted with an older lady sitting in the navigation seat. “Hi honey, what are you doing out here so late at night?

“Oh thank goodness you stopped,” Viola said in her best desperate young lady voice. “The man who picked me up earlier wasn’t very nice and ditched me by the side of the road when I wouldn’t …” she trailed off trying to sound mortified and frightened at the same time.

“Oh hon, I understand! There are a lot of bad ones out there. Hop on in. Where you heading too?”

“My mom lives in the Western Republic so I would appreciate it if you could take me as far west as you are going. She’s been sick lately and I want to visit to make sure she’s okay.” It was an easy enough story to keep up and would ensure that only the most inquisitive would ask any more questions.

“Odd place that is, funny how they were able to break away from the union so quickly. Never could understand those Californians myself, and how they managed to get those other states to join them beats me.” The lady shook her head and tapped a button on the dashboard as Viola buckled herself into one of the passenger seats. “I’m only going a little farther than Harrisburg, my sister lives in a little town just outside of the city.”

“Thank you so much, that’s more than enough. I hope you don’t mind, I had such a fright that I think I just want to rest for a while.”

“Oh that’s just fine deary, I’ll wake you up when we get close.” Viola smiled and closed her eyes. There was no way she was going to sleep but at least it would keep the woman from drawing her into conversation.

Viola pondered her destination as she sat with her eyes closed. For some reason it felt right that she wanted to go there. Perhaps she had lived there before and the memories she had locked away were influencing her travel decisions. She thought on how different the newly formed nation was from the US and how ultimately it was probably the best place someone like her could escape to.

The Western Republic, they were barely five years old but had been separate from the United States long before their secession. Apparently it had been a joke many years ago that Texas would have been the first state to leave the US since they had been their own country to begin with, but oddly enough it never happened. Viola had read that over the past six or seven decades the increasingly Republican government had caused the liberal western states some major malcontent. Religious conservatism made itself prevalent again and minority religions had a very hard time combating intolerance. Then after abortion and gay marriage were made illegal, many of the state laws in California were in direct opposition to federal law.

A small discontent group filed a petition for California to secede from the union. No one expected the people to pick up and run with it. Neighboring states rallied to the cause and within a couple of years Washington and Oregon had similar petitions put forth. They built on the already existing secessionist movement to form Cascadia. Nevada also tried to put forth a movement but the more conservative northern part of the state was in opposition. Instead, the southern half of the state submitted a proposal for partition, hoping that in the future, as their own state they would join California. For the next thirty years California and its neighbors battled it out “arguing that they had the right to peaceably secede” and that the peoples of their states “were not adequately represented by the current government.”

Then approximately five years ago the Western Republic was born. The United States ended up losing the entire west coast. California split into two states with southern Nevada joining the state of South California. There had been a small migration of people to the Western Republic after it had formed, mostly intellectuals and people who were tired of the social regression taking place in the United States. Likewise, there had been an exodus to the US of some of the more conservative elements that had been living on the west coast. It had caused most of the states bordering the WR to descend further into religious and political conservatism even more quickly than before.

Because of these thoughts an hour and a half passed relatively quickly and the woman let Viola out at a truck stop just outside of town. Glancing around, she walked over to the vending machine. It was an older model and slightly to the side of the building. With a move born of practiced familiarity she popped off the bill acceptor and reached in to grab the metal lock box. Spying a bunch of semi’s behind the diner she made her way towards them. Truckers always had tools in their cabs, she could pry the box open in short order.

As she came around the corner of one of the trucks she heard a muffled cry. Viola lowered her bag to the ground and grabbed a rock lining the parking lot from the underbrush. Stealthily she crept along to where she heard the noise. It looked like a trucker had a whore on the ground and they were about to get to business. She almost turned away in disinterest when she saw the girl thrash about trying to get away. The young woman shouted at the man _“No! Get off of me.”_ And Viola decided to help her out, any more noise would bring attention and she desperately needed to get into the lock box before someone discovered the broken vending machine. She raised the rock and viciously brought it down on the man’s head.

  


* * *

tbc


End file.
